Nothing causes you to consider how the heart is the source for all life-flow until you have a broken one. Or worse, until your child has a broken one.
I’m doing Beth Moore’s James study with my Bible study group and I came across the most eerily ironic statement she made. She’s talking about how we are to be single-minded in our devotion towards God, not double-minded or having deceptive hearts. She points out that in the original Hebrew language the Old Testament was written in, this means not having a “double heart” (p. 50).
She writes, You might picture it like this: the two chambers of our hearts trying to split off from one another and beat like competing drums facing different directions. It leaves the whole system out of sync and inauthentic (p. 50).
Well that’s interesting, as the daughter of my womb has a heart that is beating at two wildly different rhythms and it’s threatening her life.
Suddenly it’s not just a pleasant word picture anymore. It’s not just a gentle admonition that we tuck in our back pockets for a rainy day.
Because it’s life-threatening.
To be double-hearted in our devotion to Christ threatens the very life of Christ in us. We can quench the work of the Holy Spirit in us, ultimately to the point of spiritual death and uselessness.
She writes further, It means we quit tossing this way and that, backstroking toward God one minute and dog-paddling for the world the next (p. 51).
We cannot have our cake and eat it too. We cannot pretend to have devotion for Christ and love for the things of the world too.
If there’s one thing (amongst many) that have become plain to Matt and I, it’s this – we are vapors and our lives are vapors and before we know it, we’ll be in eternity. One short month ago our lives were not that insufferable. In light of true suffering, we had small problems. And in the span of a single hour, everything we knew was flipped upside down, and everything to come has been flipped upside down. Our lives from here on out will always be anchored by our daughter’s broken heart.
I want my life to count for eternity. I don’t want to remain who I am. I want Christ to change me, to transform the very structure of my heart. I don’t want my heart to beat at two competing rhythms, all the while making merry, not knowing that I’m harming my own life.
I’ve had a lot of internal wrestling lately and these are some questions I’ve come face to face with – Is my God the same God in the secret as I profess him to be in the public? Do I really believe he’s always good, always kind, always near, always loving? Is human experience the standard for truth, or is God and his Word? Am I willing to give all of me to God, the long-held hurts, the unspoken fears, the unknown, my comforts, my control?
Last night and the night before I laid in bed and whispered to the Lord in my heart – I want to want you like that. I want to want to love you like that. I want to want to give you all of me. Change my heart, Lord. Change my heart.
Why do you spend money for what is not bread,
And your wages for what does not satisfy?
Listen carefully to Me, and eat what is good,
And delight yourself in abundance. ~ Isaiah 55:2
I don’t want to spend myself on things that don’t satisfy anymore. I want to eat of what is truly good, life in Christ, because therein lies delightful abundance.